


Who Will Tell Me How it Ends

by astralelegies



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, I Blame Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, carmillapocalypse, let's see where this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4061527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralelegies/pseuds/astralelegies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short Carmilla vignettes inspired by a series of tumblr prompts I received in honor of the Carmillapocalypse. All were written rather hastily to fit my time limit and are probably at least a little bit absurd. Title from the song "Flowers for a Ghost" by Thriving Ivory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Murder at the Comic Con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt by [ leggy-carter ](http://leggy-carter.tumblr.com) on tumblr: "carmilla + cOUPLE COSPLAY"

“Come on, Carmilla.” 

“I’m not moving.” 

“Pleeeeeaaaaaase.”

“You got me in this inane costume, and now you expect me to go in there and parade around in front of a bunch of nerds who don’t have the social skills to be doing something better with their tiny human lives?” 

Laura pouted. Her stoic vampire companion attempted to remain immune for a few moments, then caved and sighed dramatically. 

“Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy a minute of it, cupcake. I’m only doing this for you.” 

“I know you are,” Laura grinned mischievously, “Now come on! We are going to kick butt at this Comic Con.”

Carmilla grudgingly pushed open her car door and stepped out. She sighed. It was going to be a long day. 

* * *

“Wow, you two look amazing!”

Perry beamed at them from a blousy Victorian dress which, to Carmilla’s mind, wasn’t a far cry from the vein of outfits she normally wore. Next to her stood LaFontaine, hair slicked back and dyed an alarming attempt at chestnut, with a beard drawn on in brown eyeliner. 

“Who are you dorks supposed to be?” Carmilla asked, not one for politely reserving such comments.

LaFontaine stood up taller, raising their chin. “Pierre and Marie Currie, at your service.”

“Who are you?” Perry replied brightly to Carmilla. 

Carmilla just looked to Laura to explain.

“Cartinelli!” the tiny nerd squealed, “I’m Angie Martinelli, and Carmilla’s Peggy Carter.” 

“That’s Agent Carter to you,” Carmilla added in spite of herself. 

Admittedly it wasn’t a bad costume. The blazer and tie were quite nice, and she’d opted for a 40s pantsuit from her own personal collection. She’d lived through that era, after all. Plus no one could tell that she was drinking blood if she wore red lipstick. And Laura’s handmade automat uniform was one part ridiculous five parts adorable, even if Carmilla wasn’t going to admit that to her. She had to at least pretend like everything about this was horrible to keep up appearances. 

Just then there was a commotion behind them, and the group turned to see a very sullen looking Danny Lawrence and Brody Kirsch. 

“Why’d you have to go and match my costume? God, Summer Psycho.”

“What part of this looks intentional?” Danny spat at him, “I didn’t even know that you were going to be here. I thought I’d have fun with some friends, dress up as Ginny Weasley, and the next thing I know you’re here in that stupid getup and you don’t even look like Harry Potter!”

This could be interesting. Perhaps the day would not be without entertainment after all. 

“Danny, hi.” Perry gingerly approached the feud. “So nice of you to join us.”

“Perry, please tell this idiot to get off my back and stop following me so people don’t think we’re some kind of couple’s cosplay because I would actually puke.”

“I’m not following you! I happened to arrive at the entrance at the same time as you. And don’t worry about me getting off your back, if someone thought I was here with you I’d throw myself of the tower of Isengard.”

“Ookay,” Laura broke in, “Danny, Kirsch, clearly neither of you meant to dress like the other. That’s settled. But did any of you think that between the six of us we could totally rock the couple’s cosplay contest? We could place top three easy and split the winnings between us.”

“No way,” Danny said, “Not if it means pretending to be with this jerk.”

“Who says I’d want to pretend to be with a psycho like you?”

“Guys,” Laura interrupted firmly, “It’s for the greater good. Just a few hours, and then you can erase it from your memory like it never happened. Please?”

And, like what always happened when Laura whipped out her puppy dog eyes, she got her way. 

* * *

Laura’s favorite costume she saw waiting in line for the contest was a nixie, which was a kind of German water spirit. 

“Ooh Carmilla look at that.”

“Um. Laura.”

“Just look at her, Carmilla! The make-up is so realistic, I’ve never seen anything like it. And that outfit…is that real kelp?”

“Laura.”

“Hold on. I’m gonna go ask if I can take a picture.”

“Laura!”

“What?” Laura turned to her in exasperation. 

“That isn’t a costume,” Carmilla said. 

“Don’t be silly, Carmilla, we’re not even close to any bodies of water. You’re just being a spoilsport because you didn’t want to go to the convention in the first place.”

“I am not!” Carmilla bristled, “I know monsters when I see them and she is screaming inhuman river beast.”

“Well you don’t have to be species-ist about it,” LaFontaine piped up. 

Carmilla glared at them. “Fine. Go save the world yourselves this time.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “She’s just being dramatic. The world will be fine.” 

Then the lights flickered and went out. Someone screamed. An eerie disembodied voice filled the room. 

You come to my rivers. You stop them up, pollute them with your stinking humanity, drive me out of my homeland, but now the time has come for my revenge. I will unleash the riptides of the ocean within me and make you drown in a sea of your own blood. And this will become my new dwelling place.

There were a few startled gasps, some terrified cries, and then a pause. 

“Carmilla.”

“I told you, I’m not going to help you this time.”

“But you’re the only one who can see in the dark!”

“Your point?”

“None of the rest of us can do anything.”

“Your point?”

“…I’ll probably die if you don’t?”

“…Fine.”

In the blackness, no one saw what happened next. They only heard a large thud, as if someone was being tackled to the ground. And then a sound like the slurping of smoothie through a narrow straw only magnified a hundred times and accompanied by screeching. And then nothing.

Then the lights came on again. Carmilla stood up, dusted off her hands, and wiped the blood from her mouth. All was silent. 

“Didn’t she have a point, thought?” Perry whispered when the hubbub of awed conversation began to flow again, “About humanity’s general lack of regard for environmental protection?”

“Probably,” LaFontaine said, “But she was also about to kill a lot of people.”

The people in question were glancing warily around the newly relit room, until seemingly as one their collective gaze came to rest on Carmilla.

When it came time for the costume contest the judges simply handed her the winnings. No one wanted to argue with a centuries-old vampire dressed up as one of the most badass women in comic book history. She put her arm around Laura.

“You were right,” she told her, “This Comic Con stuff isn’t bad.”


	2. The Tail of Willamena Karnstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an anonymous prompt on tumblr: "Laura's cat disappears every other day for a few weeks, then after a while she vanishes. A few months later, she meets Carmilla. The first time Laura goes home with her, she meets Carmilla's cat. Her cat, who disappeared."
> 
> Finished, probably, but perhaps I will come back to it another time and add more.

It all began the day Laura’s cat finally went missing. 

“Here, Lady Cattington the Third,” Laura called, repeatedly, to no avail, “Come on. It’s breakfast time!”

Nothing seemed unusual at first. From time to time Lady Cattington the Third went missing for a couple of days, but she always came back. But as the week wore on and there was still no sign of her, Laura began to get worried. 

Months went by. Laura mourned for her cat, then begged for the return of her cat, then considered getting a new cat but didn’t want to betray the memory of her old one. It’s not like Lady Cattington the Third is dead, she told herself, I bet she’ll be back any day now. 

One day there was a new girl at the office. Her name was Carmilla Karnstein. She had dark curly hair, leather pants, and a dour expression. 

“I made you welcome cookies!” Laura plopped them down in front of her. 

The new girl wrinkled her nose. “Get your stuff off my desk, cupcake.”

Laura saw her sneaking three of them after lunch. And thus, a peculiar friendship was born. 

They started out with arguments they were both too stubborn to admit they enjoyed, until at some point they realized that what they thought was a never-ending quarrel between them was actually a bond neither could ignore. They still argued, after that, but they began finding excuses to run into each other. Buying groceries, strolling the park, attending punk rock concerts that Laura would never dreamed of setting foot in were it not for a certain girl with an infuriatingly alluring way of smirking. Finally Carmilla up and invited Laura over to her apartment.

“You sure about this?” Laura asked her, “You wouldn’t want to lose your air of mystery.”

There was that infuriatingly alluring smirk. “I’ve still got plenty of mystery left, creampuff.” 

For someone who prided herself on her esotericism, Carmilla’s home seemed ordinary enough. It had a darker color scheme and more Joan Jett posters than Laura’s own residence, perhaps, but it was normal nonetheless. 

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Carmilla said. She reached inside her basket and produced a cat with long, silky black fur. An awfully familiar cat. 

“Say hello to Laura, Willamena Karnstein.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “That’s my cat!”

“Well I’m glad you like her, cutie, but there’s no need to claim possession.”

“No, I mean—that’s my cat. Lady Cattington the Third. She went missing a few months ago.”

Carmilla’s brow furrowed. “You’re sure?”

“I’d know that cat anywhere.”

Carmilla sighed. “Willamena, explain yourself.” 

As Laura watched, the cat grew and shifted until she was no longer a cat but a rather sullen young woman. 

“What…?” Laura blinked in confusion. 

Carmilla put an arm around her, though her face remained troubled. “Laura, meet Will. She’s my little sister.”


	3. Once All of the Monsters are Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an anonymous tumblr prompt: "Laura has been referring to the Dean as a monster, and Carmilla gets angry and storms off. Laura realized that despite everything Carmilla misses her mother." Title from a line in Carmilla season 2, episode 1: Brave New World.

“…anyway, ever since we got rid of that monster—

“Laura, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Just a sec, Carmilla. Anyway, as I was saying, ever since we got rid of that monster who turned my girlfriend into a vampire and possessed my soul through some creepy cursed necklace, I’ve been thinking. Silas University needs a new Dean of Students. One who isn’t a centuries-old fiend from hell bent on sacrificing girls every twenty years to an all-consuming light. But who could be fit to face the weird that goes along with the job? Tune in next time, gentle viewers, for another investigation by the one, the only, Lauronica Mars.”

Laura switched the camera off and spun her chair to face Carmilla. “Okay. I’m listening.” 

“I’d…I would really appreciate it if you would stop referring to my mother as a monster.”

“Why not?” Laura popped a cookie into her mouth. “That’th what thhe ith.” She swallowed. “And anyway, the Dean isn’t your real mom.” 

“Could you just not do it?” 

Carmilla looked, of all things, wounded, an expression she seldom allowed to show through her detached façade. 

“I don’t understand you,” Laura said hotly, “She ruins your life, she nearly gets us both killed—or, more killed, in your case—and you still won’t let me call her what she is! Your mother is a monster, Carmilla. I wish you could see that.”

Carmilla stood. 

“If she’s a monster then I’m a monster too!” she spat angrily, and stormed out, slamming the door hard as she went. 

“AeeuuuuuUUUUUUGH,” Laura screamed into her pillow, pummeling it with her fists. 

God, Carmilla could be so annoying sometimes. Even if she was Laura’s stupid hot vampire girlfriend, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be the actual worst sometimes. What was her deal?

And then Laura stopped, and thought about it for a moment.

Just because the Dean was totally evil, and just because she wasn’t Carmilla’s real mom, it didn’t negate all the time Carmilla had spent with her. Even though Laura couldn’t see any redeeming qualities in that woman, Carmilla probably could. The Dean was a monster. But maybe Carmilla didn’t see it that way. 

Laura thought about something her dad had told her once. It’s the people you love who will hurt you the most. She’d figured it was just another of his overprotective warnings. It seemed to mean so much more now. 

She dropped her pillow as she realized what she’d done. The people you love will hurt you the most. God, she was such an idiot! Quickly she grabbed the rest of her plate of cookies and threw on her coat as she headed out the door, praying she wouldn’t be too late. 

She had a hot vampire girlfriend to apologize to.


	4. The Mysterious Haunting of the Dimwit Squad's Rental Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a tumblr prompt by [ captainoflifeandlemons](http://captainoflifeandlemons.tumblr.com): "Road trip au with the phrase 'I swear I didn't know the car was haunted when I rented it' inserted at some point."

As it turned out, LaFontaine was the friend who wouldn’t stop singing along to classic rock radio during long car trips. After a rather harrowing rendition of “Carry on Wayward Son” (which had included both Laura and Perry on backup vocals), Carmilla decided enough was enough. One withering stare later, the car’s stereo system had sparked and then died. 

“Did you just…immolate our radio?” Laura asked.

“I wouldn’t put it quite so dramatically,” Carmilla replied. 

“For once I agree with Our Lady of Darkness,” Danny called from the back, “I hate that song.”

That prompted a ten-minute argument on the merits of LaFontaine’s music choices. Carmilla rolled her eyes at the rearview mirror.

“I saw that.” Laura nudged her. “C’mon, Carm, roadtrips are fun!”

“Not when you’re driving a van full of lackwits on a deserted highway in the middle of nowhere,” Carmilla muttered. 

“You love it,” Laura said.

Carmilla rolled her eyes again.

All at once, a great force of energy shook the car, propelling it forward until it skittered off the road and came shuddering to a halt. A faint groaning sound stirred the air, but none of the van’s passengers seemed to be making it. 

“Um…guys? Tell me that was just a…a really strong gust of wind, or something.” Perry scooted closer to LaFontaine for protection. 

The shaking came again, though this time the car stayed in place. 

“Sounds like we got ourselves a van with a ghost,” Carmilla said. 

Everyone looked at LaFontaine. 

"I swear I didn't know the car was haunted when I rented it,” they protested, throwing their arms up in surrender. 

“How does one even get rid of a roadtrip ghost?” Laura wondered.  
“I’m on it.” Danny whipped out her phone. “Um…best to not run into one in the first place, avoid motorized vehicles at all costs, flee for your life, blah blah blah…oh! Here we go: ‘When dealing with the presence of an unknown otherworldly spirit in your medium of transport, it is best to make loud melodious forms of noise at varying frequencies. This will interrupt its connection to the physical realm or at the very least probably scare it of for a while.’”

“Probably?” Perry yelped.

“Too bad the vampire immolated our radio,” LaFontaine said. 

“For the last time, I didn’t immolate it!” insisted Carmilla. 

“Aren’t we missing the obvious solution to just bang out a song ourselves?” 

Laura’s friends stared at her.

“What?”

LaFontaine got a steely look in their eyes. “My time has come.” 

“I am not singing with you numbskulls.” Carmilla crossed her arms over the steering wheel. 

“Yes you are,” Laura said. 

“Well…okay,” Perry joined in, “But what are we even singing?”

“… ‘Bad Reputation’ by Joan Jett?” Danny offered.

It was mutually agreed upon by the others. Laura looked to Carmilla for confirmation.

“Whatever, cupcake.” 

The car shook again, so they quickly began. LaFontaine started them off, but soon even Carmilla was proudly shouting every word. LaF even donated their voice to some of the instrumental parts. In the end, they were too busy laughing to continue.

Laura scanned the car for signs of the ghost. “Did we get rid of it?”

“Who cares?” replied LaF, “I’m down for five more hours of that.”

“Oh God what have we started,” Carmilla lamented. 

But she joined in the next song nonetheless.


End file.
